


From Here to I Don't Know Freckle Bitch's I Guess?

by EldritchSandwich



Series: Saint Latoya [1]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Dates, Fluffy Sandwich, Gangs, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchSandwich/pseuds/EldritchSandwich
Summary: Latoya Brown, a newly-canonized member of the Saints in Stilwater, has a very full, rich first day as part of the gang.





	From Here to I Don't Know Freckle Bitch's I Guess?

Latoya Brown was feeling pretty fucking good about herself.

She'd just been a kid the last time the Saints were around, driving Los Carnales out of the projects and making things just a little bit better for everyone; by the time she was old enough that people stopped laughing when she said she wanted to join, the Saints had collapsed and the Sons of Samedi had moved in, making the fear and the violence and the drug problem in Sunnyvale even worse than the Carnales ever did.

And then, just like that, the Saints had come back with a vengeance, kicked open the doors of the old mission in the Plaza, and announced they were looking for recruits. And one humiliating group ass-kicking—sorry, 'canonizing'—later, here she was strutting down the streets of Sunnyvale: homies on either side, a VICE 9 down the waistband of her cutoffs, and a Saints-purple Sharks jersey on her shoulders. She felt fucking invincible.

So yeah, maybe when she saw this cute, dainty little Asian girl getting slapped around by her pimp, she felt like it was a good first chance to throw her weight around.

She wasn't even trying to do anything big—the Boss was crystal clear that they didn't want any trouble in their territory until the Samedi were out of the way for good—just shoulder-check him as they walked past, maybe enough to loosen his grip and let the girl run if she wanted to. So that was exactly what she did, slamming her shoulder into his without even looking up as she, Sweet, and Ro-Ro walked past. The pimp in the way-too-stereotypical red velvet suit stumbled, released his grip on the ho, and turned toward the retreating bangers with a glare. "Hey! Watch where you fuckin' goin', slut!"

Latoya's back stiffened, and she heard Sweet mutter a soft "Oh, shit" around the mouth of his forty. Before Ro-Ro could tell her not to, Latoya had turned back around. "What the fuck you just call me?"

The pimp sneered, brushing down the crushed velvet of his coat where she'd mussed it. "You heard me, ho."

Latoya scowled as the three homeless men gathered around a nearby garbage fire exchanged skeptical glances. "I ain't a slut and I ain't a ho, I'm a Saint and you better watch your fuckin' mouth!"

The pimp chuckled. "Shit, girl, just cuz you a Saint don't mean you ain't a ho." He turned to Sweet. "For real, OG, how many cocks she have to suck to get in with y'all?"

Sweet just clucked his tongue and shook his head as Ro-Ro tried to hold Latoya back. "Yo, muthafucka you better apologize before I make you suck my cock!" She managed to reach behind her back and draw the 9, but Ro-Ro's hand on her wrist kept her from pulling it up.

"Come on, LaT, let's just go..."

"Yeah, you listen to yo girl, baby, You go on home and find a real gangsta who wanna ride that fat little ass." He reached into the pocket of his coat and leisurely pulled out a switchblade. "Else I'm gonna have to get rough with it."

"Come on, Latoya, he's not worth it, let's just go."

As Latoya let Ro-Ro turn her around, the pimp's mocking laughter filled her ears and made her cheeks burn. Before she could think about what she was doing she reached up to grab Sweet's half-empty forty, spun around, and splashed it across the pimp's chest. She grinned as he yowled in genuine pain, clutching at his coat like it was covered in his own blood rather than malt liquor. "My suit! You fuckin' slut!"

The knife was back out, and before Latoya could react Sweet had pushed himself in front of her, the blade cutting a deep gash across his forearm. He stumbled back, Ro-Ro trying her best to catch him, and before Latoya even realized that she'd raised her arm she heard the sound of three shots and the pimp collapsed to the sidewalk, the light fading from his eyes and the red of his jacket darkening around the three new holes.

"Oh, shit! LaT, come on, we gotta go," Ro-Ro babbled, but between the pounding in her ears and the rising sirens from down the street Latoya could barely hear her. Ro-Ro tried to drag her away, but Latoya couldn't seem to move; in the end, Ro-Ro settled for helping Sweet limp to safety, leaving Latoya standing in the middle of the sidewalk, shaking, not knowing what she was supposed to do.

At least, until someone started trying to take off her clothes.

She jumped and jerked the gun back up, only to immediately lower it when she saw who it was: that cute Asian girl whose pimp she'd just shot. "Wh...what the fuck—"

"You can't be wearing gang colors!" she snapped, and Latoya didn't resist as she yanked the jersey up over her head to leave her in just her tank top, wadded it up, and tossed it in the fire that the homeless men had very wisely abandoned when the fight started. As the police sirens grew closer the girl plucked the gun from her unresisting fingers, tossed it through the sewer grate at their feet, and then dragged Latoya's limp body around the corner of the tenement building the whole thing had taken place in front of. As the girl dropped to her knees and started to undo the fly of Latoya's shorts, Latoya finally reacted.

"Whoa, whoa, what the fuck are you—"

"Shut up!" the girl hissed. When she tugged Latoya's cutoffs and panties down around her knees and immediately buried her mouth in Latoya's bush, well...Latoya might not have shut up, exactly, but she sure as hell stopped talking.

Between the shock and the tongue inside her, Latoya didn't really understand what was happening—well, she understood that a pretty girl was eating her out really, _really_ well, but she didn't understand why—until the sound of sirens and squealing tires gave way to the sound of uniform shoes on the dry dirt of the tenement yard and an armed cop turned the corner just in time for Latoya to moan in pleasure as the girl licked up and down her swollen pussy lips. Latoya flushed as the cop leered and the girl pulled back with a demure squeak.

"Oh, um, hi officer, we were just..."

He just grinned. "Yeah, I can see that. You ladies, uh, didn't happen to hear anything that sounded like a gunshot a couple minutes ago, did you? Or see anyone suspicious, maybe in gang colors?"

The girl pursed her lips. "Oh. Um...I don't think so." She looked up at the blushing Latoya. "I was...um, distracted, and she was...kind of making a lot of noise?"

The cop grinned wider. "Well hell, ladies, in that case, don't let me stop you." Latoya's cheeks got even hotter as the girl kissed the wet, quivering inside of her thigh and the cop leaned back and folded his arms, apparently content to just watch the show. Before Latoya had to decide whether she was going to let this girl just eat her out with a cop watching like it was no big deal, the squawk of his radio made him jump.

"Markowitz, you find anything back there? I need you to help canvass."

"Roger, be right there," the cop said into the radio, then cleared his throat. "Well, you two ladies...have fun."

With one parting smirk and an accompanying leer, he headed back around the corner. As soon as he was out of sight Latoya yanked up her panties and her shorts, cheeks on fire as the girl stood back up and casually wiped Latoya's glistening wetness from her face.

"Uh...thanks," Latoya said. "For helping me not, not for eating me out, but...I mean obviously, also thank you for eating me out! I just mean, I know it wasn't..." As the girl just smirked at her, Latoya shook her head. "Whatever. Thanks."

The girl shrugged. "Yeah, well, thanks for getting rid of the guy who said he'd kill my parents if I ever tried to go back to them. So, you know, I guess we're even."

"Right. Okay. Uh...I'm Latoya, by the way."

"Caridad. But I go by Carrie."

"Right. Uh, nice to meet you, I guess?"

Carrie smirked. "Yeah. You too, I guess."

The two young women stood there, feet shuffling awkwardly. Eventually Latoya licked her lips. "Uh...are you...hungry?"

Carrie tilted her head. "Yeah, I guess I could eat."

Latoya raised her eyebrows. "So...Freckle Bitch's?"

* * *

Carrie and Latoya sat at a table outside the Freckle Bitch's in Cecil Park, eating and looking out over the water. Latoya had a Fist and Carrie had Chicken Bazooms, but they were sharing the fries. Carrie dipped two in ketchup before pointing them accusingly at Latoya.

"You know I feel like you think this is a date."

Latoya winced. "What? Pssh, naw, girl, come on..."

"I mean I ate you out, and now you're buying me food, so..."

"Naw, come on. I mean first of all if it was a date it would happen the other way around, right? And second, I'm just...you know, thankin' you for savin' my ass back there."

Carrie held her gaze before biting off the heads of her fries. "Good. Because I don't date gangbangers."

Latoya shrugged defensively. "Yeah, well, that's fine, because I don't date..."

As she trailed of, Carrie raised her eyebrows. "What? Hookers?" Latoya flinched and sputtered, and Carrie smirked. "Filipinas?"

"I...I don't date...people who save my life!" Latoya stammered. "So...there!"

Carrie's smile softened. "Well, good. Because you wouldn't want to date me anyway."

Latoya snorted into her soda. "Yeah, why would I wanna date someone who's fine as hell and an amazing fuck and always has my back?" She looked up to find Carrie blushing, lips pursed and fingers picking at her food. "I just meant—"

"I'm not gonna stop hooking," Carried blurted out, then winced as Latoya fell silent. "I'm broke and I don't know how to do anything else and it's all I'm good at. I'm never gonna be some...some fucking housewife or some shit, so..."

Latoya snorted. "I mean, okay. But...you think that's what I want? I mean you do whatever, you strip or you sell it on the corner or whatever, but...I just want somebody to chill with. A girl who knows what it's like on the streets, and who's got my back." She leaned back with a sigh. "I just...I don't know, I just want someone to be real with."

Carrie smiled, then tipped down to take a drink of her soda to disguise it. "Oh. Okay. Noted."

Latoya shook her head. "Sorry. You should be workin', you can go if you want, it's not a big deal..."

"No, no," Carrie said, blushing slightly as she picked up a nugget. "I mean...I should at least finish my food, right?"

As Carrie bit down, Latoya smiled.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Johnny drawled. He was leaning against the banister in the headquarters, the looming figure of the Boss half-hidden in shadows behind him. Christ, they needed some better lighting in here. And some stripper poles. "You popped a cap in this pimp's ass, but you didn't get caught because his ho was so glad you killed him that she dragged you into the alley and started eating you out right there."

Latoya coughed. "Uh...yeah. Yes, sir, Mr. Gat. Sir."

Johnny didn't react, but she could hear the Boss snort behind him. "Then this cop didn't make you cuz he was too busy watching you get eaten out, and then after he left you took the ho to Freckle Bitch's."

"Yes, sir. Her name's, uh, Caridad. And I'm pretty sure we're dating now."

Johnny chuckled. "Shit, Boss. New girl's all right."

The Boss just grinned.


End file.
